Bridge Over Troubled Water
by Gala000085
Summary: A serial killer has come to Santa Barbara and the SBPD asks for Shawn's help. On the one hand, he has never failed to solve a case; on the other hand, regardless of whether or not he solves this case it could result in his own demise. Shawn!Whump NO SLASH
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This will be my first multi-chaptered Psych story. Glee!!! Hopefully I will still feel like that once I'm done...

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Seeing the rays of the early morning sun streaming through the windows to softly play along his features, was not a sensation Shawn Spencer was accustomed to experience with his eyes open. Shawn blearily realised that it was not the alarm clock, which Gus had snuck in one day when he thought Shawn wouldn't notice that was dragging him from his beauty sleep. Had he been more coherent he might have come to the realisation that it could never have been the alarm clock waking him as it had yet to reach double digits.

His phone continued to happily chipper away as though it had not just realised it had committed a rather hideous crime: rousing Shawn Spencer from his much needed and appreciated sleep. He grumbled slightly as he dragged his hand away from the bed to grab a hold on his cell phone which had yet to give up trying to get his attention.

"Hello?" Having not even bothered to look at the caller ID he was rather surprised to hear Juliet's voice over the line.

"_Shawn, did I wake you_?"

"Yes, yes, you did, but that's not important," Shawn answered vaguely, feeling slightly more awake than mere seconds before. "What's going on, Jules? Did you miss me?"

He smirked as he heard her sigh over line and he could practically see her roll her eyes.

"_No_," Juliet answered him as professionally as possible and Shawn smirked again, "_the Chief asked me to call you_."

"Ooh, is she in dire need of a certain psychic extraordinaire?" It was incredible how easy joking came to him, that even though he was only now starting to drag himself out of bed, he was still more than capable. Though, he would admit that even he was a little brighter in the upstairs apartment once he had been awake for a few minutes…maybe hours on some days. Some days that may or may not have been connected to Mexico.

Swiftly moving on.

"_As it just so happens, no, she's not in dire need of a psychic_," Juliet retorted nonchalantly, "_however, she would like you to come down and look at this crime scene_."

"Hang on, let me just check my schedule," Shawn said with as much credulity as he could muster while sock-hunting. Juliet made some vague noise of pseudo agreement, clearly indicating that she was not buying it. "Well, Jules, you're in luck. It just so happens that my bikini inspector services have temporarily been re-scheduled."

Juliet said nothing for a few seconds and Shawn would like to imagine it was because she was trying not to laugh, though she did sound _nearly _as professional and composed as she had when she had previously spoken as she told him where to find them.

It was some fifteen minutes later that Shawn was straddling his Norton and taking off towards the crime scene. He had briefly considered calling Gus but decided he would wait till he was on the scene to at least give Gus the chance to sleep that he himself had not received. Then again, now he was actually regretting his decision as it would have been totally worth it, if not only to hear what words Gus could have come up with at the early hours of the morning to implicate Shawn with.

The black and whites as well as the dozen or so police officers in front of an old abandoned warehouse were clear indicators that he had arrived at the correct location. He parked the Norton deliberately close to one of the black and whites before proceeding towards the warehouse, smiling to the couple of officers that he passed on the way.

Shawn strode purposefully into the warehouse after quickly ducking under the police tape. Already he started taking note of the scene. What seemed to be almost the exact centre of the relatively square room lay the body, surrounded by forensics, Lassiter, Juliet and Chief Vick. Shawn slowed his pace as he neared the victim, trying to see anything useful. The body was in a _supine_ (as Gus would have happily and geekily called it) position. Of what Shawn could see of the knuckles there were scrapes on both which looked like they had been gained by punching a wall rather than flesh. The skin was wrinkled and dried but there were no apparent injuries other than the knife poking out of the chest.

"Lassie! Looking bright and chipper as usual," Shawn greeted cheerful as he took his eyes off of the body to look up at Lassiter's scowl.

"Ah, Mr Spencer, so good of you to join us," Chief Vick said before there was a chance her Head Detective managed to grind his teeth all the way through to the jaw. "O'Hara, will you please fill Mr Spencer in."

Juliet nodded once at the Chief before turning to Shawn who cocked his head slightly to the side as he studied her. She looked as if sleep was a rare elation if the dark circles under her eyes were anything to go by.

"Victim is Carla Norwick, forty-three years old. She was reported missing four days ago and we found signs of struggle at the scene. She is also the fourth victim this month to be killed in this way…"

Her voice faded off as Shawn put his right hand to his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Wait! I'm sensing that the knife wound was not the cause of death," Shawn said dramatically as he lowered his hand again.

"That's correct," Juliet answered while nodding absentmindedly, "as with the previous three victims, Carla Norwick was dead before she was stabbed. At the moment the most obvious cause of death is dehydration, which is also the same as the previous three victims."

"What Detective O'Hara is saying," Chief continued, "is that we have a serial killer on the loose and we could use all the help we can get."

"It sounds as if my bikini inspector services will have to wait," Shawn replied with as much seriousness as he could muster, "but, you can count on me, Chief."

"Glad to hear it," Chief Vick retorted tonelessly. "Detectives, make sure Mr Spencer gets a copy of the file."

Lassiter grumbled something incomprehensible but when Vick looked sternly at him, he gave her a "Yes, Chief" which seemed to satisfy her as she proceeded to make her way out of the warehouse.

Shawn stepped to the side and rummaged through his pockets until he found his phone. He quickly dialled Gus's number.

"Dude, it's awesome! We've been hired to find a serial killer."

* * *

At first Gus had not been as thrilled as Shawn at the idea of finding a serial killer, but Shawn put it down to the fact that Gus, like him, was not too fond of being interrupted doing something important. For Shawn, the thing of importance had been his sleep. For Gus…well Shawn was not quite sure, but his friend had said something about his _second_ job, though he still met up with Shawn at the Psych office an hour later, sounding rather excited about the case.

Shawn had gone back to the office with the firm promise that he would come to the police station later to pick up the file. Juliet was the only one who had not looked completely exasperated by that promise.

As usual in Santa Barbara the sun was shining brightly and Shawn briefly eyed the sparsely dressed girls as they walked along the promenade in front of the Psych office. This was exactly why this was the perfect location for the office. Not to mention there was often a great variety of food vendors walking by. What more could you possibly want?

"So, what is this case you're so excited about, anyway?" Gus asked and Shawn smirked openly at his friend's attempt to sound disinterested.

"That's my chunky cheese burritos!" Shawn exclaimed happily, but stopped short when he thought about what he had just said.

"Chunky cheese burritos…really?" Gus questioned as a smug look of his own spread across his face.

"Not my finest moment," Shawn agreed thoughtfully.

"The case?" Gus prompted, taking a seat behind his desk pretending to look at his laptop, though his attention was mainly on Shawn causing him to poke the desktop rather than the keys on the laptop.

"Four victims so far. All were apparently missing for a few days before they were found dead," Shawn summed up what he had been told earlier as he too sat down behind his desk, bouncing the soft ball that had previously been taking up part of the clutter on his desk.

"Cause of death?" Gus asked, no longer pretending to be occupied by his laptop but instead had his full attention on Shawn.

"That is where it gets really interested," Shawn put the ball down on the desk as he leaned over the desk in an effort to appear far more intriguing, "though all of the victims were found with a knife through the heart," at this Gus looked slightly less interested and a little more sick, "that was not the cause of death. No, my dear friend, all four people died of dehydration."

Gus did not look sick anymore either.

He looked slightly annoyed.

"Dehydration? That's what you drag me down here for? A few people forget to drink and…hang on a minute. There's not even a case is there?"

"Gus –"

"I can't believe this. You dragged me out of work – _again_ – as some joke," by this point Gus had risen from his seat, and with his briefcase in hand, was heading towards the office door.

"Gus…Buddy!" Shawn said loudly enough to stop Gus before he reached the door. "First of all, I did not _drag_ you out of work, because, let's face it, you drove down here all by yourself. I'm very proud of you," Gus looked about ready to kill Shawn, so he quickly continued. "Second of all, I am not joking. There really is a case, and you and I are going to go down to the police station and get us a copy of the file…legally this time."

Gus slowly moved back into the office, still looking rather suspicious, but at least it seemed as if Shawn had managed to win him over.

"We're getting a file…legally?" Gus asked as he stopped in front of Shawn's desk and looked down at his friend.

"Totally," Shawn said, jumping to his feet enthusiastically.

"Alright, I'm in, but if this turns out to be some kind joke, I swear I will make sure you will not have any 80's movie marathons for a month," with those words Gus turned and headed out of the Psych office.

"That's harsh, buddy!" Shawn shouted as he rushed after Gus. He might as well call shotgun on Gus's car. There was no point in wasting money for gas for his Norton when he and Gus were going to the same place.

The station was a flurry of activity when they finally arrived. The 'finally' mostly caused by Shawn when he remembered he had not had time to grab breakfast before going to the crime scene that morning.

"Jules! Looking lovely as ever," Shawn commented as he strolled into the station and spotted Juliet shifting through files at her desk. She looked up and spotted them when she heard Shawn's voice.

"You saw me this morning, Shawn," Juliet said as the two friends stopped in front of her desk.

"You do look lovely, though," Gus agreed, but didn't continue when Juliet looked at him once with a look that clearly said, 'don't encourage him'.

"I have the file for you," she said as she handed a file to them which Shawn accepted almost greedily.

"You are actually giving us the file," Gus said with what Shawn was certain was _not_ feigned excitement.

"Gus, I already told you that we got a case," Shawn pointed out as he started shifting through the file.

"Yes, Shawn, but just last week you called me out of work because of some emergency, which just happened to be that there were no more pineapple juice boxes left at the Psych office."

"Well, there wasn't," Shawn defended.

"I don't care, Shawn, it was not an emergency," Gus retorted with a huff.

"Fine, it was not an emergency. Can I call you if your entire comic book collection goes missing?" Shawn questioned as he looked innocently at his friend.

"Shawn, if you take my –"

"Guys! Enough!" Juliet said loudly, drawing the attention of the two bickering friends back on her. "I have a lot of work to do here. There's a serial killer out there, so go and do…something."

"Jules, are you throwing us out?" Shawn said with a slight smirk.

"I think she is, Shawn," Gus agreed, though he was better at feigning a hurt expression.

"I am not throwing you out, I'm just giving you a subtle hint to leave the station for now and then come back if you have anything to add to the case," Juliet said sweetly, looking up at Shawn and Gus who in turn looked at her with pseudo shocked expressions.

"She _is_ throwing us out," Shawn shared a look with Gus.

"Let's go, Shawn," Gus replied, "it's clear when we are not wanted."

Juliet couldn't help but smile and shake her head as she watched the two head out of the station.

"Back to the Psych office?" Shawn asked as they reached the car.

"You know that's right," Gus answered eagerly, all signs of his earlier reluctance dissipating.

Once they were back at the office Shawn wasted no time getting out the clear board, hurriedly writing the four victims' names in capital letters on the board.

First was Michael Stuarts, thirty-six years old, married with one child. He had been missing for six days before he was found in a park by a morning runner, knife protruding from his chest. Cause of death was dehydration with no apparent signs of defensive wounds on the victim.

Second was Jade Peterson, twenty-four years old, single, working in a nursery. She had been missing for four days before her body had been found, also with a knife in the chest, in a quiet area of the city. Cause of death was again dehydration.

Next up for the old run of the mill dehydration was Stanley Elkhorn – seriously, _Elkhorn_? – forty-five years old, single construction worker. He had been missing for five days before his body was discovered.

Lastly was the victim Shawn had seen that morning, Carla Norwick, forty-three years old, married, no children.

"Damn it!" Shawn hissed as he threw the file back down his desk.

"You find anything yet?" Gus asked, looking at his friend over the top of his laptop where he was doing his own research.

"No, nothing yet. I can't see anything connecting them," Shawn said with a huff as he dropped down in his chair and glared at the board.

His phone rang. Looking at the caller ID he quickly answered the call with a sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, Dad."

Gus stopped typing and instead watched Shawn inconspicuously – or at least _he_ thought so – over the top of his laptop.

"_Shawn, are you still coming to dinner tonight_?"

No, he did not want to go to dinner tonight…with his dad…without Gus…he did not want that at all.

"Dinner? Tonight, huh?" Shawn looked over at Gus when he noticed his friend nodding vigorously. Shawn made a grimace at him before continuing, "Listen, Dad, I don't think I'm going to be able to make tonight. Gus and I just got a case."

"_Will you be able to solve it by tonight_?" Henry asked, though his tone gave no implication as to what his intentions were.

"No…" Shawn answered rather cautiously, "I don't think so."

"_Will you be able to solve it by tomorrow_?"

What was this? Twenty questions?

"No, Dad, I probably won't, which is why I need to be here…working."

"_If you can't solve the case by tomorrow anyway, you can just as well get your ass over here and eat dinner_," Henry retorted calmly. How was it that his father was always able to sound so calm and yet make Shawn so frustrated? "_I'll see you at seven_."

Shawn listened briefly to the dial tone before he put his phone back in his pocket, a scowl shadowing his features.

"So, dinner with your Dad tonight?" Gus asked with a smirk.

Shawn glared at Gus before standing up and heading towards the board again, standing directly in front of it, as though in the hope that whatever useful clue there might be would jump out at him.

"Michael, Jade, Stanley, Carla," he mumbled to himself as he looked at the board. "Man, woman, man, woman."

"What are you getting at, Shawn?" Gus questioned as he too came around his desk to stand in front of the board.

"There's a pattern with the gender of the victims," Shawn said rather vacantly, knowing that he was grasping at loose ends. This was hardly what he would call a break in the case. "Great…I've narrowed it down to the next victim being a man. The women of Santa Barbara are safe for another week."

"Shawn, it's been a day. I'm sure you'll find something. Just go to your Dad's tonight, have a quiet dinner, and we'll continue working on this tomorrow."

"Whoa whoa whoa…hang on a second," Shawn said seriously, looking Gus right in the eye, "Did you just say a _quiet_ dinner. Dude, this is me and my Dad we're talking about."

"You know what I mean, Shawn," Gus said as he sat back down behind his desk.

"Yeah, I'm sure eating a dead cow will give me the epiphany I'm looking for," Shawn said with an exasperated sigh.

"It's better than eating a live one," Gus reasoned.

"Dude, you did not have to share that," Shawn retorted, glad that they were bickering as it took his mind off the annoying thought that he had still not found anything the police hadn't. "Who eats live cows, anyway?"

"I don't know, Shawn, I was trying to be funny."

"Better luck next time there, buddy," Shawn said with false sincerity as he walked around Gus's desk to pat him on the shoulder in an encouraging way, only to yell in pain when Gus slapped his hand. Hard, he might like to add.

* * *

It was a couple of hours later that found Shawn alone in the Psych office. Gus had left a little earlier to complete his rounds, leaving Shawn alone with his thoughts as continued to stare at the board. They had decided to go and talk to the victims relatives the next day to try and see if they could find a connection that way. As it turned out, Shawn had still found absolutely nothing to connect the victims. They had all been kidnapped on random days at random times, leaving Shawn clueless as to what pattern their killer could possibly be following. He would never admit it, but he was starting to feel the cold sliver of dread that the killer maybe did not follow a pattern at all, making him that much more of a challenge to find.

He glanced briefly at the clock hanging on the wall and groaned when he realised that it was already six thirty. He had to be at his father's in half an hour unless he could come up with some excuse to weasel out of it. Considering the conversation he had had with his dad earlier he did not see that as an option. Gus had merely seemed to find it rather amusing that Shawn was put down about having dinner with his dad. However, whether Gus was just glad that he did not have to listen to the two arguing, Shawn was unsure. His friend had even suggested that Shawn should try and set himself the target that he and his father should not get into a disagreement for at least two hours. To this Shawn had answered that he and Henry could get into a disagreement about which side of the table the salt and pepper should be on, so two hours might be stretching it a little.

Pushing himself up from his chair, Shawn moved over to stand in front of the board yet again, holding the file in his hand. After three minutes of staring with nothing jumping out at him yelling, "Ta-da! I'm a major clue", he threw the file back down on his desk in frustration, before grabbing his helmet. He made sure to lock up, knowing from experience that Gus was not a happy little trooper if Shawn did not lock up, no matter what the excuse was.

As he drove his Norton on the familiar streets towards Henry's house, images from the crime scene he had seen that morning as well as the crime scene photos from the other victims, kept flashing through his mind as he tried to grasp what he wasn't seeing. In the end he pushed the images out of his mind and instead concentrated on driving.

He had been sitting in front of his childhood home on his Norton for five minutes before exhaling a sigh and hopping off the bike. It would be nice if Gus's suggestion actually could have been reality as Shawn was really not in the mood to fight tonight. True, it had been Jules waking him, but he had still been woken way too early for comfort. To add to that he had still to find a clue the cops hadn't, though he was rather positive that tomorrow would change that. That did not change the fact, however, that he for some strange incomprehensible reason, had to have dinner with his dad without Gus as a mediator.

"Why were you sitting out there instead of coming inside?" Henry asked as soon as Shawn set foot in the house.

"Hello to you too," Shawn said and he noticed he sounded slightly irritated even to his own ears. This almost had to be a record. It was almost two seconds into him entering his father's residence and they were already well on their way for a fight.

Shawn watched his dad move around for a bit before Henry gave him a pointed look at the table that had yet to be set. Instead of arguing, Shawn opted to merely sigh before he moved towards the cupboards and pull out the things they needed. He didn't even notice that Henry had stopped working to watch him for a few seconds.

"So, what's this case you've got?"

The question took Shawn by surprise as he put the salt and pepper on the table, though he managed to rescue the salt before it decided to try bungee off the table without the cord.

"You want to talk about my case?" Shawn questioned as he straightened and turned away from the table to look at his dad who had his full attention on his cooking. Well, that was what he wanted you to think. Shawn knew that his dad was an expert at looking as if he was doing one thing when, in reality, he was actually watching to make sure Shawn was not doing something he was not supposed to.

"Sure I do," Henry said as he too moved towards the table with the plate of steaks.

"Okay…" Shawn drawled as he went back to the kitchen to get the potatoes. As he continued to bring the food to the table, literally, he gave his dad the rundown of the case, intentionally leaving out the small factor that he had not made any progress throughout the day.

"So, what have you got so far?"

Damn it!

"Er…not much…it's still early days," Shawn said casually as he sat down at the table. His dad merely grunted in reply as he too sat down.

While he began piling food on his plate, Shawn made sure to keep a weary eye on Henry, hoping to be able to pick up on what he was going to say next so as not to be caught off guard…again.

"Have you been to a crime scene?"

No such luck.

"Yeah, this morning," Shawn replied before stuffing a piece of steak in his mouth.

"And?" Henry prompted around a mouthful of potatoes.

_See_, Shawn thought, _at least I spoke before I started eating_.

"And that's that. There was a dead person on the floor and that's it," Shawn said, unaware of the fact that while he was talking he had been decorating the same potato with multiple holes from his fork. He noticed when his father glared at the offending hand with said fork. "Will you look at that!" Shawn said slightly high-pitched with feigned excitement, "It's like a Swiss cheese, but a potato."

"Cute," Henry retorted as he cut a piece of his steak, "don't get sidetracked."

"I wasn't getting sidetracked," Shawn said as he poked the aforementioned potato again.

"What did you get from the crime scene?" Henry prompted and Shawn had the feeling that his dad was already getting frustrated with him. Maybe he should text Gus and tell him that two hours was definitely optimistic.

"I didn't get anything from the crime scene," Shawn said truthfully.

"Nothing?"

"No, I got nothing, zilch, nada," Shawn answered as he shook his head as well just for good measure.

His dad grunted again.

"What?" If there was one thing Shawn hated it was knowing that his dad had something that he wanted to say, but was keeping it in.

"Well, it's just, there must have been something you noticed."

There was that slightly accusing tone that Shawn was used to hearing. His dad simply couldn't accept no for an answer.

"I'm sorry," Shawn said, though he sounded far from sorry, as he stood firmly by the fact that he actually had no reason to be apologising in the first place, "but there was nothing. The death as such had happened elsewhere and I couldn't see anything that gave any kind of clue to this location."

"Maybe you didn't look hard enough," Henry supplied a little too casually as he reached across the table and grabbed the pepper.

"Maybe there just wasn't anything for me to find," Shawn retorted rather testily as he stabbed a piece of steak rather viciously.

"The steak's already dead, you don't have to stab it that hard," his dad said though continued too quickly for Shawn to get a word in, "and Shawn, it could just be that you didn't look close enough."

"Do you want me to go back to the crime scene? Or better yet, how about I drag you down there so you can see it yourself, and then you can walk me through step by baby step how A leads to B which leads to C which –"

"Shawn!" Henry cut off Shawn sharply as he finally put down his knife and fork to look directly at his son. "I want you to take a step back. How long have you had this case? A day?" When Shawn nodded reluctantly Henry continued, "Go back to the crime scene tomorrow and look at it with a fresh pair of eyes."

Shawn frowned.

"You want me to get a new pair of eyes like Tom Cruise in _Minority Report_?"

"Gah-Shawn!" Great, now his dad was actually starting to grow red in the face. It was funny Shawn had actually missed the point when his ears turned red, instead first noticing when it was his dad's entire face. He looked almost like a red Hulk. "Would you stop with the jokes for just once in your life –?"

"No…" Shawn mumbled but his dad ignored him.

"– and maybe try to realise when someone is giving you advice?" Henry finished angrily picking up his fork again and stabbing a potato so viciously that the poor thing almost jumped off the plate.

"Oh, you mean you're trying to give me advice?" Shawn said with feigned surprise, irritated that his dad always had to lecture him about something. He received no other response than a heated glare from his father. "Fine, I will go back to the crime scene tomorrow and I'll bring Gus. Happy?"

"Let me guess, Gus will be the fresh pair of eyes?" Henry asked a little less heatedly this time as his son had relented to his idea.

"No, don't be ridiculous. Gus will be my idea bouncer and the smoothie buyer. He's indispensable," Shawn said nonchalantly as he stood to take his now empty plate back into the kitchen, missing his dad's silent shake of the head.

It was an hour and a half later that Shawn was finally able to enter his own apartment. The rest of dinner with his dad had turned out surprisingly well considering how it had started. Of course his dad had to ruin it at the last possible moment just as Shawn was leaving by telling him he wanted him to come by later that week to clean up a in his old room. When Shawn had questioned his father on this, he had merely received the response that if Shawn wanted to keep the things in there he had to clean the room himself, regardless of whether or not he still lived there. Shawn had grumbled about that the entire way back to his apartment, but he supposed he could use the case as an excuse to not clean anything. Maybe then his dad would forget about this whole Shawn-has-to-clean-his-room thing.

Yeah right, like that had ever happened before.

* * *

So there you have it...first chapter. Do you like?

Virtual pineapples to anyone who finds the _Supernatural_ reference. ;-)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much for the review for the previous chapter! I hope you like the second chapter.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It had taken some skilful cohesion to get Gus to go the crime scene. He had finally relented when Shawn had assured him that there was no body and no excessive blood spillages. His friend had been slightly sceptical even upon entering the warehouse but Shawn had merely chuckled at him earning a rather hard slap on the back of the head.

"So where was the body?" Gus asked as he looked around the warehouse, no doubt taken aback by the lack of anything the room.

"Right about…here," Shawn said as he crouched down at the spot where Carla Norwick's body had been the day before.

Shawn opened up the police file he had brought with him, taking out the crime scene photos of Carla Norwick as he tried to recreate the scene from yesterday. He closed his eyes and thought back to the day before, seeing clearly the image of the woman's body. He remembered the unnatural look of her skin which had most likely been caused by the water deprivation. He remembered the bruised knuckles and a little too vividly he remembered the knife protruding from her chest, and the almost surreal lack of a heavy amount of blood.

The bruised knuckles.

Shawn quickly opened his eyes and looked back at the file he was holding. He hurriedly dug out the crime scene photos taken at the other scenes and flipped through, only interested in one thing.

"Aha!" Shawn cried out, getting the desired attention from Gus.

"You got something?" Gus asked as he crouched down next to Shawn and peered at the photos Shawn was holding, though he didn't look too pleased about that idea.

"Yes, and no, I'm not actually sure," Shawn rambled, "but look at this…"

"I'd really rather not," Gus commented and began to stand up but Shawn pulled him back down again.

"Look at the knuckles," Shawn prompted.

"What about them?" Gus questioned as he glanced at the photos out of the corner of his eye, clearly still reluctant to look any closer.

"Gus, you have to actually look at the pictures," Shawn commented as he shoved the pictures into Gus's eye line, "I mean, sure that completely bland wall over there does make for a lovely view but I'm trying to solve a case here."

Why was Gus glaring at him again?

"Fine, what is it?" Gus finally relented and looked at the pictures though he did not look happy about it.

"Thank you," Shawn said insincerely, "now, look at the knuckles. What do you see?"

"I don't know, Shawn," Gus huffed, clearly starting to get annoyed with his friend, "they're knuckles. So what?"

"Bruised knuckles," Shawn corrected excitedly as he shoved the pictures a little further under Gus's nose.

"Yeah, so? That doesn't mean anything, Shawn," Gus replied as he shifted his weight slightly back to avoid poking his eye out on the corner of the pictures.

"Oh, really?" Shawn commented in the tone that clearly said that he knew a lot more than what he was letting on, "All of the victims have bruised knuckles."

"There were signs of struggle from where they were taken, it probably just from that, it doesn't tell us anything," Gus retorted as he started to get up again, but Shawn pulled him down…again. Gus slapped him over the head that time.

"OW! Gus…" Shawn whined as he rubbed the back of his head, "that actually hurt."

"Good," Gus looked rather too pleased with himself as he got up off the floor. Shawn did not try to stop him this time but instead stood up himself, fixing Gus with a single glare for good measure.

"May I continue?" Shawn asked irritably and continued when Gus nodded smugly, "The knuckles were not bruised from hitting flesh, hence it was not from hitting their attacker. Unless of course we're looking for the Iron Man, which would actually be quite cool."

"The Iron Man was not made of iron, Shawn," Gus remarked as he frowned, looking at Shawn.

"Then why call him Iron Man?" Shawn inquired looking at Gus incredulously.

"I'm not going to explain this to you," Gus said as he turned his back on Shawn and started walking towards the exit of the warehouse.

"That means I'm right…right?" Shawn called after him before realising that Gus was actually about to leave him at the warehouse, "Gus! Wait up! I haven't told you about the knuckles yet."

"I don't care about the knuckles, Shawn," Gus commented irritably as Shawn reached him at the car, "You got everything wrong about Iron Man."

"Dude, you say that like it's the worst crime anyone could possibly commit," Shawn answered before he hurriedly got into the car, refusing to be left behind at the crime scene, "Personally, I think this case that we got is slightly more important than the issue of whether or not the Iron Man is made of iron."

"He was not made of iron, Shawn," Gus said slowly but angrily as he stuck the key in the ignition, though he turned it rather gently as he probably remembered that this was _his_ company car after all.

Shawn pinched the bridge of his nose and reluctantly realised that the best way out of this to get Gus to listen would be to tell him he was right.

"Fine, the Iron Man was not made out of iron," Shawn said calmly and collected, "Now, can I tell you about my Knuckle Theory?"

And, yes, that totally did have to be in capital letters.

"I guess," Gus relented as he started driving away from the warehouse.

Shawn sighed deeply before fixing a smug look on his face. He could just as well make Gus think that Shawn had just won their little battle.

"As I was saying prior the silly discussion," Gus shot him a dark, threatening look but Shawn ignored him, "the bruises were not from hitting flesh. In case you don't believe me it even says so in the Autopsy report from the first three victims. What does that tell you?"

Gus glared at him again. Okay, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring up Iron Man, but wasn't he overreacting a little bit? Shawn continued to stare right back at him until Gus was forced to break eye contact to look back at the road. This time Shawn had no need to draw a deep breath in order to look smug.

"It tells you," Shawn continued when it was obvious Gus was not going to play along, "that all four victims were taken to the same place."

"It doesn't tell you that, Shawn," Gus pointed out tonelessly.

"It makes it a possibility," Shawn defended.

"Whatever," Gus sighed, but Shawn was not willing to let this go so he continued to stare at his friend knowing it would make Gus elaborate. Well, sometimes it did, sometimes it just made him slap really, _really_ hard. Today, he was in luck, "It doesn't tell us anything. It's all circumstantial."

Shawn looked away from Gus to stare out of the window, feeling the thrill from discovering a possible clue dissipating rapidly. Gus was right, it wasn't enough. It didn't necessarily mean that they were all taken to the same place or even that the bruises had been caused by the same experience. It told him next to nothing.

"It's something though," Gus said, his tone a whole lot softer and calmer than before, "What do you want to do now?"

"Do you want to visit dead people's relatives?" Shawn asked solemnly as he looked back at Gus.

Gus was Lamaze breathing for roughly thirty seconds before he answered.

"That's a great idea; where do you want to go first?"

Half an hour and a smoothie later found Shawn and Gus sitting in the late Michael Stuarts' living room. Shawn had thought it appropriate to offer his condolences to the first victim's wife first as it gave him a chance to start from the beginning. He was going to find the stupid little black wormhole that would solve this case.

"Mrs Stuarts," Shawn addressed the widow in his best professional, yet compassionate, tone, "did your husband have any enemies?"

"No," Mrs Stuarts sniffed as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

They always had to cry. Crying people made him extremely uncomfortable and Shawn Spencer did not do uncomfortable. He was a comfortable, life-loving being by nature and he was not about to change that.

"Are you sure?" Shawn asked her, momentarily taken aback when she glared rather evilly at him.

"Yes, I'm sure," Mrs Stuarts hissed at him before dabbing her eyes again. She was a very stately looking young woman, who, though roughly the same age, made Shawn feel like a little kid in the naughty corner every time she glared at him and she seemed to be doing it a lot. "My husband was a lovely man. He had his routine way of doing things, sure, but that does not exactly qualify as motive for murder, does it now?"

"No, no it doesn't," Shawn agreed quietly as he stored away the information he had just received for later cross examining. "Was there anywhere specifically he liked to go?"

"Mike was a family man. Our daughter is five years old, he spent as much time as he possibly could at home with us," Mrs Stuarts informed them though when it did not seem as if she was going to continue, Shawn took that as a clue for him to begin talking. You snooze, you lose, right?

"When you say that he had a routine, what exactly do you mean by that, Mrs Stuarts?" Shawn asked as he leant forward in his seat with a serious expression colouring his features.

She glared at him again.

Shawn wondered if maybe he started crying she would feel enough compassion to stop glaring at him for only asking a few questions concerning her late husband.

"We are very sorry for you loss," Gus cut in before Shawn or Mrs Stuarts could get a word in, "anything you could tell us would be greatly appreciated to aid our investigation."

Why exactly was it she did not feel the need to glare at Gus? Instead she actually nodded and looked suddenly very upset.

"He would get up in the morning, fix his breakfast and then go to work. He always told me that he ate lunch at this little café, I think it's called The Coffee Mug; he said they had really great coffee and donuts," Shawn wasn't really sure how that was helpful for the investigation but it was useful for when he and Gus had to decide where to go for lunch. "Then he would go back to work and come back home at five. We would have dinner at seven. Anything else?"

No! Shawn wanted to get out of this house, with this creepy weepy widow – that actually had quite a nice ring to it – and carry on investigating.

"That will be all, Mrs Stuarts," Shawn said politely as he stood up, not even waiting for her to speak he strode towards the door, hearing Gus offer the polite and expected condolences.

Shawn was already waiting by the car by the time Gus came out of the house, looking a little bit mad.

Uh-oh.

"Are you mad?" Shawn asked carefully as Gus arrived at the car.

"No, how could I possibly be mad?" Gus said, his tone seeping with sarcasm, "Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

"Obviously not," Shawn said rather irritably. This was not good. It was fine that he and his dad argued, that was normal and he could deal with it. He and Gus arguing was not something he ever wanted, and he knew that one of them had to end it before they got too far along. Mostly because Gus was the one with the car after all and Shawn really did not want to be left outside the widow's house. "Alright, I'm sorry I wasn't all touchy feely with her."

"Or considerate," Gus added already looking less angry.

"Definitely that too," Shawn agreed quickly as he and Gus got into the car.

"What now? Lunch?" Gus asked hopefully and Shawn almost felt sorry to rain on his parade.

"Nah, I want to hit one more dead person's home before we eat," Shawn said offhandedly as he leant back in the car seat and testing whether or not his feet could reach the dashboard.

It turned out that the person to talk to concerning Jade Peterson was her older brother. He was a lot more forthcoming than Mrs Stuarts, or at least Shawn thought so, and he had been very happy to help in any way possible to bring his sister's killer to justice. Malcolm Peterson had not had a long time to talk to them seeing as he was on lunch break, but he quickly told them what he knew.

"I can't think of anybody who would want to hurt Jade."

In other words, he told them absolutely nothing. Shawn had almost been about to tear his hair out, but thought better of it considering his hair was a little more important than that.

"I'm sure she was quite lovely," Shawn commented, putting as much sympathy into his voice and features. _She just didn't look so lovely from the crime scene photos that I've seen_, Shawn thought but decided wisely not to voice that out loud.

Gus shot him a warning glare but Shawn merely looked at him innocently, trying to assure his friend with a single look that he had no idea why he was looking at him because he certainly was not doing _anything_ wrong…right now. That was not important though.

"She worked in a nursery; I mean you don't get much nicer than that, right?" Malcolm continued sadly, and Shawn really hoped he was not about to cry too. Shawn just nodded and then shook his head, unsure which was actually the appropriate response. "We would meet up sometimes during the week either for lunch or dinner, but mostly dinner as it fitted the best with her schedule."

"That's very nice," Shawn piped up. He was starting to regret deciding to talk to more people before eating lunch because the way this was going it would be dinnertime by the time they were done.

"She liked flowers, and the ocean. I suppose that's why she loved to live here so much; because of the ocean."

This was torture. Shawn was absolutely sure of it. Maybe everybody who had lost someone to this serial killer had spoken with his dad to make absolutely certain they had the best possible ways to make this as hard for Shawn to behave himself as possible.

Shawn just smiled kindly at the man allowing him to continue, which he did…sadly.

"Growing up I always used to pull her hair and hide her toys."

"That was very mean, but I'm sure you meant it in a loving and kind way," Shawn said compassionately.

"Yeah, of course, man, she was my sister. I had to do that," Malcolm answered as though that of course was part of the package of being a big brother.

"Of course you did," Shawn agreed in his best fake-sympathy tone.

"You want to hear a story about her sixth birthday?"

"No," Shawn said maybe a little too quickly but he covered his horror hurriedly when he continued, "you're on your lunch break, dude, and I just need to ask you a few things, but maybe another time."

_As in never_, Shawn added inwardly.

"Ah, man, you're right, I'm so sorry," Malcolm apologised quickly but both Shawn and Gus waved off the apology.

"Malcolm, did Jade mention anything suspicious going on lately?" Gus asked before Malcolm had time to say anything else.

"Now that you mention it, there was something."

"What?" Shawn questioned quickly, suddenly very interested in what had caused the thoughtful frown to appear on the other man's forehead.

"They didn't have her favourite donut at that café she goes to on Saturdays with her friend, Sally."

The man had looked so sincere that Shawn didn't have the heart to tell him that missing donuts, though disastrous, was not criminal.

Shawn looked up at the man again. What had he just said?

"What was the name of that café?" Shawn asked as he started to get up from the chair he had previously been occupying in Malcolm's office.

"The Coffee Mug."

Shawn and Gus looked at each other, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. They really had to go and get some donuts.

* * *

Shawn looked around the small café which was slightly less impressive than he had first anticipated. Both Mrs Stuarts and Malcolm Peterson had spoken so highly of the place on their dead relatives' behalf that he couldn't help but dream slightly of oversized donuts of delicious flavour. It turned out that the donuts were pretty much like your average donut, though Shawn swore that his had a higher dosage of sprinkles than the last one he had had.

The café was made out of one room which looked to have once been several where some of the walls had been knocked down to give more room. The little nooks created a rather cosy atmosphere, the dull colour of the walls contrasting with the few colourful pictures which hung around the room. Shawn had already spent a great deal of time trying to decipher what exactly the picture by his and Gus's table was supposed to represent.

From where the two friends were sitting, the door to the café was located just behind them, and their table was lined up against the wall directly opposite the bar where various donuts were also on display.

"This place doesn't exactly scream bloody murder," Gus commented in a hushed tone as he eyed his donut almost suspiciously as though the donuts were the cause of the murders.

"No, I agree, it's more of a subtle whisper," Shawn replied wryly before taking a large bite of his donut, earning a disgusted glare from Gus.

Shawn looked around the café as he tried to get a better feel of the place. He eyed the waiters but none of them seemed to be the serial killing type. Then again, looks could be deceiving, though he seriously doubted they were looking for pretty, petite girls or beer-bellied, middle-aged men.

"Maybe our killer picked his victims here," Shawn thought out loud as he frowned thoughtfully, his donut momentarily forgotten. "Why _this_ place of all places to pick your victims?"

"I don't know, maybe he didn't like their coffee," Gus said with his trademark smirk that clearly said that he thought he had just said something incredibly funny. Shawn had no idea how he had ever developed that particular smirk, because no one had ever laughed when he had donned that smirk after saying something.

"Or maybe he liked it too much," Shawn said after taking a sip of his own. "Dude, this is like the seventh heaven of coffee."

"You're not getting another one," Gus warned though he had to agree that the coffee was good. When Shawn snorted into his coffee, Gus looked quizzically at him, "What?"

"I just had this thought," Shawn said around chuckles of laughter, "you know this place is called The Coffee Mug?"

"Yeah, so?" Gus answered, clearly worried that Shawn had already had too much coffee.

"If the serial killer is linked to this place do you think they'll call it," another snort of laughter, "The Coffee _Mugshot_?"

"Mug shot is two words, Shawn," Gus corrected though he too smirked at the joke that Shawn clearly found incredibly funny.

That thought amused Shawn for quite a while as he continued to survey the café for anything suspicious. He had been hopeful at first that this place would give him the epiphany he had been looking for, but so far he had been rather disappointed in terms of the case.

"Run through this with me, alright," Shawn said after he had sobered up again, "so the first victim comes here almost every day for lunch."

"Yeah, and the second victim comes here on most Saturdays with her friend," Gus added as he looked thoughtfully at Shawn.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Shawn inquired mirroring his partner in crime's look.

"A sincerely hope not," Gus said seriously, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," Shawn continued, clearly taking no offence to Gus's comment, "that we need to check if the other two victims had any connections to this café."

"That's what I'm talking about," Gus replied gravely as he quickly got up from his seat.

"So, does that mean you were thinking what I was thinking?" Shawn asked as they left the café.

"I didn't say that, Shawn," Gus countered as he got into the car.

"But you were _thinking_ it," Shawn pressed on, though his phone annoyingly cut off Gus's possible reply.

It was his dad.

Again.

Didn't he have dinner there just last night?

"Hello, Father," Shawn answered his phone in his very serious tone.

"_Shawn, when are you going to come and clean out your room_?" Henry asked and Shawn was quite sure he could hear him rummaging around in his kitchen.

"You first asked me yesterday," Shawn retorted, shooting a look of irritation at Gus when he realised his friend was watching him intently instead of driving, but Gus merely grinned at him. Shawn punched him in the shoulder.

That was a bad idea because Gus punched back. Harder.

"_Yes, I know I asked you yesterday, Shawn, I'm not an idiot_," Henry continued and Shawn couldn't help but wonder if there was someone out there that really hated him. His dad was calling him because he wanted him to clean, and Gus kept hitting him. Maybe he should ask Jules if he could press charges for child abuse, "_I called to make sure you would remember_."

"Of course I remembered," Shawn shot back irritably, "it was the last thing you said before I walked out the door after all."

"_Don't be a smartass_," Henry scolded him before quickly continuing, "_just don't forget_."

"Alright, Dad, I'll do it later this week," Shawn said hoping that would satisfy his dad enough to make him leave him alone.

"_This week, Shawn_," his dad answered in a warning tone before hanging up.

Shawn contemplated what his father had said as he stuffed his phone back in the pockets of his jeans. Was it really necessary to treat Shawn as an irresponsible child? Shawn frowned. Okay, maybe he did act like an irresponsible child every now and then, but he was capable of remembering what he had been told some twelve hours previously, give or take a few hours.

"Who's next on the list?" Gus asked and Shawn realised they had yet to leave The Coffee Mug's car park.

"What list?" Shawn asked as he looked at Gus with a bewildered expression.

"Weren't we going to check if the other victims had a connection to the café?" Gus questioned as he turned the key and the car rumbled to life.

"Oh that, yes," Shawn caught on, happily shaking his head free of any Henry-thoughts, "yes, you're absolutely right. Good thinking there, buddy."

Gus smirked a little at that, but Shawn would allow that for now. Who knew what Gus would do if Shawn made him angry again. Maybe he would actually make good on the threat he had made the previous day about the 80s movie marathon. Shawn knew that a whole month without one would be definite Shawn torture.

"We have a Stanley Elkhorn up next," Shawn continued as he dug out the file again to look foe Stanley's next of kin. "It looks like we'll be talking with his roommate and co-worker, Patrick Abel."

Getting hold of Patrick Abel had proven a little more difficult than Shawn had first anticipated but they had finally managed to locate him at a construction site where he had been allowed to take a ten minute break in order to talk to them. Ten minutes was not long, but it was more than enough to ask one very simple question.

"Did Stanley ever mention a café called The Coffee Mug?" Gus asked as soon as they were far enough away from the other construction workers to not risk eavesdroppers, because as Gus had said, you could never be too careful as you could never know who was listening. Shawn had to remember to ask him later if he had gotten that from Henry.

"Mention it?" Patrick said looking slightly confused, "He didn't have to mention it. We went there every Friday at around eleven in the morning. We start…well; I start work later on a Friday so it was a good time to go. We'd known each other since college…"

Shawn didn't listen as Patrick continued talking. He was only interested in the fact that he now potentially had a lead that the police hadn't figured out yet. True, he was still grasping at lose ends, but it was more than he'd had the day before, right? He had no idea how this café figured into this whole mess but it was something.

Damn his father for being right about looking at the crime scene with a new pair of eyes! What did that mean anyway? A new pair of eyes. Shawn huffed, what a stupid metaphor.

"Thank you for your time," he heard Gus say before his friend stood next to him with the same knowing expression as Shawn was wearing. "I knew there was something off about that café."

"You never said that," Shawn pointed out.

"But I _thought_ it," Gus smirked as he walked towards the car, Shawn hot on his heels.

"You did not," Shawn argued.

"Yes; yes I did," Gus retorted.

Shawn rolled his eyes and shook his head as they both got back into the car. Now they just had to talk to Carla Norwick's husband and confirm Shawn's suspicion that she too was a regular at The Coffee Mug, and then they could call this a day.

His phone rang.

If that was his dad again he was not going to answer. He had had enough right now. He was on a roll and wanted to wrap this up at a reasonable hour.

He frowned…then smirked.

"Jules," Shawn answered the phone cheerily, "tell me, do you feel bad about throwing us out of the station yesterday?"

"She should," Gus agreed and Shawn nodded in agreement.

Shawn's smirk slid off his face though when he heard Juliet's next words.

"_Shawn, another person has been taken_."

* * *

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Another chapter done! I hope you liked...


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